Debates, loneliness, darkness, locusts, Jesus, and the Scum of the Earth
It seems like every time I've turned around this week, I've been in an argument. Not intentionally, mind you. It just seems like every time I try to express my opinion on something, I have at least two people ready to turn my simple statement of preference in to an argument.
Not that I mind it so much... a good debate has always been fun to me. But sometimes I just wish someone would say, "oh, I totally get where you're coming from," and actually agree wholeheartedly with me on something without feeling the need to then subsequently engage in a lively debate.
It's sort of like that whole "waiting your turn to talk" thing. I hate doing that. So, I just stopped volunteering information about myself altogether in pretty much any conversation where I feel like that happens. And do my conversation partners notice? Of course not. They're just interested in hearing themselves speak, so they're getting precisely what they want out of the conversation. And I'm happy to give it to them. I'll listen. I'll try to understand. I'll try to help where I can (and when appropriate). And, as a matter of fact, I do enjoy doing it.
But there is, of course, still a part of me that just wants someone else to listen to me for a change. To try and get inside my head for once. To try to see the dark, dying world through my eyes. To walk a mile in my shoes. You know how it goes.
But, for some reason, each time I try to just share a little bit of what I see in the world, I invariably end up with an argument on my hands, warranted or not. I get pretty surprised by it sometimes, as I think I'm just tossing out a benign opinion. And then WHAM! A debate springs up.
There is one such instance of attempted sharing that rises to mind tonight.
So I have what my girlfriend calls a tendency to gravitate towards the darker, scarier things in the world. I like horror movies, I listen to hard rock, I like to collect action figures of monsters, I'm fascinated by the sinful human condition, I'm fascinated by folk tales of monsters and ghosts, and I have what some might term a fairly cynical outlook on the human race.
It was strange tonight... during my bible study, I made the comment that I saw God's justice in the swarms of locusts described in Joel chapter 1, and that I found great security in that. My companions were outright horrified. Immediately, I had a group of guys trying to get to the bottom of how on earth I could see Justice in what they said was a situation where bad things were happening to Israel for no fault of their own.
I kept trying to explain to them that when I saw images like swarms of locusts obliterating an entire nation's crops, when I read about God's glory coming down and touching the mountains so that they smoke, and how the day of the Lord will be a dark and terrible day shrouded in shadow, I don't just see terror and fear and despair.
No, I see a God who is worth worshipping.
My favorite stories about Jesus are the ones that talk about the types of people he spent his time with. Specifically, he tended to seek out and spend time with fishermen, prostitutes, tax collectors, and rebels fighting against the Roman occupation of Israel.
If you were to put all of those various types of people in to a modern context, Jesus sought out and spent time with rednecks, porn stars, IRS employees, and terrorists.
He loved them, cared for them, healed their sicknesses, and taught them about the Kingdom of God when the religious leaders of their day completely and totally abandoned them, along with the rest of society.
So, yes... I do find great comfort even when I see the hand of God unleashing plagues and disaster. I know that the blood of the New Covenant speaks a better promise than the blood of Abel. I know that God is not going to go back on his promise that those who believe in him will not perish. I know that even these seeming terrors, horrors, and disasters will ultmately work out for the Glory of God in spite of the fact that they caused so much death. Everywhere I look, everywhere I turn, no matter how hard I have tried to ignore it, I see the Grace of God at work in the world... especially in the places where others seem to not see it the most.
And I suppose that is why what I said set off my compatriots the way it did. It is difficult to communicate the complicated emotion I get when I read about God's wonders in the Old and New Testament. And I also suppose I didn't do the best job of trying to explain it to them.
I see now that the thing I was trying to convey to them could only rightly be communicated by falling on my face like a dead man.
Not that I mind it so much... a good debate has always been fun to me. But sometimes I just wish someone would say, "oh, I totally get where you're coming from," and actually agree wholeheartedly with me on something without feeling the need to then subsequently engage in a lively debate.
It's sort of like that whole "waiting your turn to talk" thing. I hate doing that. So, I just stopped volunteering information about myself altogether in pretty much any conversation where I feel like that happens. And do my conversation partners notice? Of course not. They're just interested in hearing themselves speak, so they're getting precisely what they want out of the conversation. And I'm happy to give it to them. I'll listen. I'll try to understand. I'll try to help where I can (and when appropriate). And, as a matter of fact, I do enjoy doing it.
But there is, of course, still a part of me that just wants someone else to listen to me for a change. To try and get inside my head for once. To try to see the dark, dying world through my eyes. To walk a mile in my shoes. You know how it goes.
But, for some reason, each time I try to just share a little bit of what I see in the world, I invariably end up with an argument on my hands, warranted or not. I get pretty surprised by it sometimes, as I think I'm just tossing out a benign opinion. And then WHAM! A debate springs up.
There is one such instance of attempted sharing that rises to mind tonight.
So I have what my girlfriend calls a tendency to gravitate towards the darker, scarier things in the world. I like horror movies, I listen to hard rock, I like to collect action figures of monsters, I'm fascinated by the sinful human condition, I'm fascinated by folk tales of monsters and ghosts, and I have what some might term a fairly cynical outlook on the human race.
It was strange tonight... during my bible study, I made the comment that I saw God's justice in the swarms of locusts described in Joel chapter 1, and that I found great security in that. My companions were outright horrified. Immediately, I had a group of guys trying to get to the bottom of how on earth I could see Justice in what they said was a situation where bad things were happening to Israel for no fault of their own.
I kept trying to explain to them that when I saw images like swarms of locusts obliterating an entire nation's crops, when I read about God's glory coming down and touching the mountains so that they smoke, and how the day of the Lord will be a dark and terrible day shrouded in shadow, I don't just see terror and fear and despair.
No, I see a God who is worth worshipping.
My favorite stories about Jesus are the ones that talk about the types of people he spent his time with. Specifically, he tended to seek out and spend time with fishermen, prostitutes, tax collectors, and rebels fighting against the Roman occupation of Israel.
If you were to put all of those various types of people in to a modern context, Jesus sought out and spent time with rednecks, porn stars, IRS employees, and terrorists.
He loved them, cared for them, healed their sicknesses, and taught them about the Kingdom of God when the religious leaders of their day completely and totally abandoned them, along with the rest of society.
So, yes... I do find great comfort even when I see the hand of God unleashing plagues and disaster. I know that the blood of the New Covenant speaks a better promise than the blood of Abel. I know that God is not going to go back on his promise that those who believe in him will not perish. I know that even these seeming terrors, horrors, and disasters will ultmately work out for the Glory of God in spite of the fact that they caused so much death. Everywhere I look, everywhere I turn, no matter how hard I have tried to ignore it, I see the Grace of God at work in the world... especially in the places where others seem to not see it the most.
And I suppose that is why what I said set off my compatriots the way it did. It is difficult to communicate the complicated emotion I get when I read about God's wonders in the Old and New Testament. And I also suppose I didn't do the best job of trying to explain it to them.
I see now that the thing I was trying to convey to them could only rightly be communicated by falling on my face like a dead man.
posted by Raoul The Destroyer at 12:35 AM
4 Comments:
Jumping Jayhawk makes you laugh at yourself. A skill almost lost on most of the rest of us. I thus reckon it
pretty important that one plus one
of the opposite sex equals one whole
person. D
I dunno, I think there are definately a lot of other people out there who have been able to get me to laugh at myself. Particularly Knarf... who taught me the very important lesson of "people are stupid, including me."
Laughing at yourself is definately a very important thing to learn to do. But there are sometimes when you just want to express yourself without the fear of criticism.
the reality of a sinful, dark world is ever present. sometimes it is only through that darkness that the light of the Divine can be seen. It is only in the terrible cold that the embracing warmth can truly be known. I completely understand what you are saying... God bless you.
I for one can understand where you are coming from.
I generally like a good debate. In fact I will even debate an issue on which I am totally uninformed. ;)
But there are times when instead of a debate you just want someone to thoughtfully consider what you are saying. To think about it, why you said it, why it matters that you said it.
Although I find myself guilty of the very thing that I dislike in others: the need to be right. When I disagree with someone's opinion, do I actually consider what they are saying from their persepective? Not often enough.
If I want others to be open to my ideas and to listen, then I guess it starts with me. Something that I had to learn quick in a big city where a lot of people are smarter and more gifted than me. Back home you get used to people taking you word for things. But somewhere new, it's not that way all the time. At least for me.
To quote a friend, "If you believe everything they told you, how can you agree, that you're an open mind among, all insanity?"
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